


Snapshots of a friendship

by S_Horne



Series: A May Medley [24]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: “I don’t know, Steve.” Tony sighed and lifted a shoulder. “You know everything about Rhodey. I just think that you… you’re allowed to talk about him, you know.”Steve’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”“You never tell me anything. You never tell anyone anything. I don’t know if you’re trying to covert him, keep him all for yourself, or if you think that talking about him will only cement the fact that he’s…”“That he’s what?” Steve said tersely when Tony cut himself off quickly. “That he’s dead?”Tony flinched, knowing that there was nothing he could say. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you were allowed to–”ORNational Brother's Day





	Snapshots of a friendship

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I didn't post yesterday, if anyone was waiting for it. I booked myself a very last-minute holiday purely for the hell of it and I just didn't have time to write and post yesterday's fic by the time I’d driven to my hotel and checked in/explored the area. I'm really really sorry. 
> 
> You might have noticed from the title that this format is a little different, a little experimental, maybe.
> 
> Day Twenty-Four: _National Brother's Day_
> 
> (One instance of homophobic language)

“Tell me about him.”

Steve looked down at Tony with a squint. “What?”

“Bucky,” Tony said around a yawn, his hands dancing up Steve’s chest. “Tell me about him.”

“What do you mean? You know it all.”

“That’s not true.” Tony shuffled back a little until he could roll onto his front and look up at Steve. “I know stories from Peggy, or random things that Howard would throw out there. I know a few facts from the museums, if they’re even true. What I don’t know is your side of things.”

Steve blinked slowly, his hand resting on Tony’s back. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, Steve.” Tony sighed and lifted a shoulder. “You know everything about Rhodey. I just think that you… you’re allowed to talk about him, you know.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never tell me anything. You never tell anyone anything. I don’t know if you’re trying to covert him, keep him all for yourself, or if you think that talking about him will only cement the fact that he’s…”

“That he’s what?” Steve said tersely when Tony cut himself off quickly. “That he’s dead?”

Tony flinched, knowing that there was nothing he could say. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you were allowed to–”

“Well maybe I don’t want to talk about him to you.”

Tony startled when Steve sat up abruptly and moved to the edge of the bed, standing up quickly and reaching for his sweatpants. Their night had been so lovely and Tony had gone and ruined it, as usual.

“Steve? No, wait. Don’t go. Hey; I’m sorry. Steve, come on.”

Tony’s calls fell on deaf ears as Steve left the bedroom.

 

////

 

_“I give, I give!” Steve kicked his legs out, catching Bucky’s shins as tears slid down his cheeks. He punched uselessly at Bucky’s unforgiving arms as he was tickled mercilessly. “Get off me!”_

_Bucky laughed as he finally pulled away. “You admit it?”_

_Steve glared up at Bucky, his forced smile disappearing. When he didn’t say anything, Bucky held up his hands, fingers poised threatening, and Steve hurried to surrender._

_“Okay, yes. I admit it. You’re the better wrestler.”_

_Bucky sat back on his heels and grinned. “Told you.”_

_“Jerk.”_

_//_

_Steve was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Back when they’d been small children, neighbours forced together, it had made sense for them to flock to each other. Inseparable, they’d been. No one saw one without the other. They were each other’s counter-part._

_But times were changing. Bucky had shot up rapidly. He’d always been a tall child, but Steve had blinked and suddenly Bucky had been a man. A ridiculously-handsome, smart, built man that had his pick of all of the dames in Brooklyn. He took full advantage, always taking a girl out for a night to the pictures or to a dance. It made sense that Steve would be left behind._

_He wasn’t handsome, after all. He hadn’t experienced the same growth spurt. Hadn’t experienced any sort of growth spurt, actually. He had a list of medical problems longer than his arm and had little-to-no future ahead of him._

_Steve sighed as he doodled despondently on the sketchpad in his lap. He didn’t think he could do without his best friend, but times were moving on and Steve was going to have to learn. Surely being alone wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?_

_A shadow fell over his book and he looked up to see Bucky standing in front of him. He looked good with his hair slicked back and his shoes freshly shined, even in his old suit._

_“Stevie, you little punk. I told you the dance started at seven.”_

_“What?”_

_Bucky sighed and reached down to heave Steve up. Brushing down Steve’s jacket, Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to go in that – we can’t be late. Which we already are thanks to you sulking up here.”_

_“What? I thought you were meeting that girl from the milkshake place?”_

_Bucky tutted. “I am. What? Did you think I was going to leave you at home?”_

_When Steve didn’t reply, Bucky rolled his eyes almost violently. “Louisa is bringing a friend. There’s two of them, you idiot.”_

_Steve couldn’t reply and Bucky softened. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck as he started to steer them towards the front door. “Not a chance, Stevie. Not a chance.”_

_//_

 

_Steve thought he was going to be sick. Scratch that._

_Steve_ was _sick._

_Wiping his mouth with a shaking hand, Steve cursed himself over and over again. He had always been so careful, so sure to stay hidden. Being as small and as argumentative as he was, Steve had enough problems in his life. He didn’t need to be known as a faggot on top of that._

_Not that Steve thought that Bucky would shun him. It was just a horrible situation, a hideous worry._

_Steve enjoyed the company of other men. But was that worth losing his best friend over? Maybe he could change. Maybe Steve could be fixed, could be normal. But first, he needed to talk to Bucky. He had to explain, had to tell his side of the story._

_It wasn’t that Steve had lied about it all. He genuinely was a dish-washer at a club in Brooklyn. It was just a club that was known as a place for men of a certain persuasion and Steve found himself staying later after his shifts to spend a little time in the alley behind the kitchens. He hadn’t known that Bucky had followed him that night until Steve had been on his knees in front of a stranger and had heard a voice questioning his name._

_Steve vomited again, staring down at the mess on the sidewalk with dread in his stomach. If the evening went the way he was expecting, he might well end up sleeping in that very same alley._

_He had to know one way or the other. The lock in front of him swam as he fought to get his key in. With knees shaking so badly that they could barely carry him, Steve walked into the small apartment that he shared with Bucky._

_There was noise coming from the kitchen and Steve followed it warily, bracing himself for a punch. Not a fight. He would take whatever came his way with no swinging back. Not with Bucky; he could never hit Bucky._

_“What are you standing in the doorway for, punk? You know the rules. Wash up and then come and eat.”_

_Steve choked on air and grabbed the doorframe. “What?”_

_“What?” Bucky looked over his shoulder and sighed, hands stilling over the pot of re-heated stew. “Oh, Stevie. Haven’t you got it yet? Till the end of the line. Now, go wash those hands of yours. I know where they’ve been.”_

////

 

“I wasn’t in love with him.”

Tony tensed but otherwise gave no indication that he was awake and listening to Steve. As he stayed perfectly still and stared at the wall, Tony heard Steve walk into the bedroom and then felt the other side of the bed dip ever so slightly.

“Bucky, I mean” Steve elaborated as if Tony didn’t understand immediately. “I wasn’t in love with him. I know a lot of people think I was, but it was never like that. He was my best friend. He was my family, the only family I ever had. When I had nothing, I had Bucky. Through everything, he never once left my side. No matter what I did or what life threw at us, it was always the two of us.”

Tony caught his bottom lip between his teeth, willing himself to stay quiet. If he was interrupted now, there was no telling when Steve would find the strength to start talking again.

“I want to share him with you. Tony, I really do.” Steve’s voice was soft, not trembling with tears but more studious. It was clear that he was thinking of every word before they left his mouth and Tony’s hands itched with the urge to take Steve into his arms.

“I didn’t mean what I said, honest. I want you to know everything, want you to share my memories. I just – I’m scared, I think. Of what, I don’t really know, but every time I go to talk about him my chest tightens up and I panic.

“I don’t want to have a division, you know? My old life and my new. That’s not what I want; not how I want _you_ to think of things either. You should know everything. Everyone should know what a man he was. It’s just, it’s as if… no, I don’t know.”

Steve sighed deeply, the wind completely out of his sails in a total contrast to the start of his speech. Although he didn’t know what he would do or what he would say, Tony longed to help. It was always Steve that was in control, always Steve that was the one people turned to for help. It was never the other way round and Tony felt so out of his depth.  

There was another sigh and the bed moved again. “I’ll let you sleep.”

Without second guessing himself, Tony reached behind him blindly and grabbed onto whatever of Steve he could touch. It seemed like his knee, bony and awkward as it was.

“Get into bed and spoon me, Cap,” Tony said. It wasn’t the most comforting thing in the world, nor was it romantic in the slightest, but it was definitely Tony. “It’s freezing in here.”

There was a long pause before Tony finally felt the bed wobble and Steve slid under the comforter. When Steve’s arm made its way around his middle, Tony felt something loosen in his chest. They weren’t quite there yet – wherever _there_ was meant to be – but they were well on their way.

Tony twisted his fingers through Steve’s and closed his eyes, listening as his partner’s breaths evened out.

 

 

//

 

“What’s this?” Steve had been on his way out of the lab when he suddenly stopped in the doorway. “I haven’t seen this before. Where did it come from?”

Tony looked up from the other side of the workshop and squinted to see what Steve was pointing at. “Oh. That,” he said with a casualness he didn’t feel. “It’s for you.”

Though he dropped his head back down, Tony kept his eyes on Steve. He watched as Steve reached out almost reverently and picked up the photo-frame that Tony had left out on his desk. Steve’s touch was impossibly gentle as he stroked a single finger over the photo preserved by glass.

“Where?” Steve asked after a long moment, voice a little wobbly.

“Howard’s things.” Tony set down his tools and finally scratched an itch that had been bugging him for a while. “I meant to tell you. I should have told you long ago. There’s loads of things in my dad’s stuff. I’ll have Pep take you, if you want to look through it.”

Tony waited for another moment, but Steve’s focus was on the photo in front of him. It was understandable, really, and Tony could sympathise. It had been a shock for Tony when he’d found the picture so he knew that it would knock Steve sideways.

The photo was one that Tony had had a vague recollection of. It was one that Howard had had somewhere in the house and it had shot into the forefront of Tony’s mind when he’d encouraged Steve to start talking about his past. There was never a chance of the picture appearing in a museum or an exhibition as it was very clearly private.

There were few photos of Steve pre-serum as there had been so little money for them to have portraits taken. Not to mention that they hadn’t been necessary when Sarah Rogers had passed away and Steve had nobody to take photographs for. For some reason, Howard had procured possibly the only picture of a young and sickly Steve Rogers laughing with an equally-young, but far healthier, Bucky Barnes.

“There are more?”

Tony pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Yes. Yeah, babe, there are loads. Can’t promise they’re all like that, but dad certainly had a lot of you. Anything that was in your apartment or your name would be in his storage.”

“And this is for me?”

That time, Tony’s smile made its way onto his face as he stared at Steve still fixated on the photo. “Yeah. All yours.”

 

//

 

Tony hated being serious. It wasn’t him in the slightest and he always felt like cracking immediately. Tony liked being the fun one in the room, the one to make people laugh instead of cry.

But this time he had no choice. There was no way that he could pass this job over to someone else. Nobody else could have been the one to deliver the news that Tony had burning inside of him. Only him.

“Steve,” he said, shoulders back and his media persona firmly in place. “We need to talk.”

 

*

 

“So, he’s what? Alive?”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “I’ve had feelers out. Something just didn’t add up with the stories you’ve told me and reports from the war. When I found Howard’s papers, there were – well, we can go over it later.”

“But, Bucky’s alive?” Steve’s grip around Tony’s hand was almost painful.

“It looks that way,” Tony said. He rested his other hand on Steve’s forearm and rubbed lightly. His head was starting to hurt and he could only imagine what Steve felt like. “It’s not good news, but it’s something.”

Steve’s smile was nothing short of heart-stopping. “It’s _everything_. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“I can’t – Steve, I’m only telling you that he’s alive,” Tony hastened to say, panic settling in. That was far too much and he couldn’t have Steve going away with his expectations somewhere that Tony could never meet. “I can’t bring him–”

“I know.” Steve leant forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. “It’s enough. Just knowing is enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Steve lifted Tony’s hand to his mouth and pressed another kiss right over the ring on his fourth finger. “It’s enough.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a tumblr](https://s-horne.tumblr.com/)


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